More thoughts (with alas, no creative title)

The rest of the world continues to go about its business (protests in Wisconsin! Revolution in the Middle East and North Africa!), and my focus continues to remain right here in my little one-bedroom corner of the world. It's amazing how much little details and mundane tasks have taken on such importance. My days are full of repetition: feeding, changing diapers, pacing the floor while bouncing the little boy on my shoulder. I tend to say the same things over and over too; exclamations when he lifts his head during "tummy time", outpourings of affection when he smiles at me, words of reassurance when he cries.

Sometimes I wonder if my intellect is being dulled by all this repetition, and sometimes I think I'm getting to some higher plane - getting to some greater meaning by seeing past the mundane. Or maybe I'm just being a mom to my son. Whatevs.

A few scattered thoughts I've had in recent weeks:

* Oh wow, breastfeeding is nature's way of forcing you to bond with your baby. As a breastfeeding mother you cannot be apart from your child for more than a couple hours. The two of you spend hours - literally - each day in close physical contact. How did I never realize this before? Incredible. I love nature and all the ways it makes us do the right things.

* If you are riding in a cab and your baby lets out a loud, squirty fart, how can you make sure the cabbie knows that the noise didn't come from you?

* If you constantly call your child one name or another from a long list of nicknames (Nilsie, Nilsie Q, Q, Squirmy Squirms, Squirms, Sweet Pea, Sweetie Sweets, Cutie Petootie, Cutie Petoots, Petoots, Toots, Drools Verne, Smiler, Little Guy, etc.), how long will it take him to realize that his actual name is Nils?

* Being a parent has made me realize that there is no one way to do anything. People are so passionate about so many things (Formula is wrong! A baby must sleep on its back! Let the baby tell you when it's time to eat, not the other way around! For proper bonding to occur, it is crucial that the mother and baby room together in the hospital - no nurseries, please!)... yet when my own mother had her babies, the rules were all different. She was told to do things so much differently, and my brother and I turned out just fine. I'm going to follow most of the "rules" as they are written now, and my kids will turn out just fine. As far as I'm concerned though, people can do whatever they want with their kids. If the rules are just going to change again in 30 years, who am I to say who's right and who's wrong?

* I can't believe how much attention Nils and I get when we go out in public! Or more accurately, Nils and that random, uninteresting lady who is carrying him. People love little babies. I get tons of comments, and often notice people sneaking glimpses at him out of the corners of their eyes.

* You know, given enough diapers and clothing changes, and a willingness to breastfeed in public, there's really no limit to how long we can be out and about. Good lord, we FLEW to Wisconsin the other week, just the two of us. If we can do that we can do anything.

Settling in

This past Friday Oliver and I went out to dinner. My mom was in town, and she encouraged us to go out and have an evening (or at least a couple hours) just the two of us. We walked to a French bistro in the neighborhood. It was fantastic. The owner, a Parisian expatriate in a stylishly ill-fitting sweater, showed us to our table and described the specials with a heavy accent. We had wine with dinner. I looked around at the other tables, marveling that these people have probably been living "normal" lives for the past four weeks. The whole world has probably been operating as usual, in fact. I'm the one that has slipped away for a bit. I was the one on a Friday night who felt sleepy at 9:30. I was the one anxiously checking the wall clock every few minutes, wondering if I'd been away for too long. I was the one whose mind kept drifting back to images of my son - fast asleep, staring up at me with the eyes I can't resist, laying in his bassinet with arms and legs flailing. We walked home at a brisk pace, Oliver I suspect because he was cold, and me because I wanted to catch a glimpse of those little eyes again.

I think I'm settling into motherhood nicely. The baby blues have come and gone, and the great mystery of "what on earth do I do with this child?" is a bit closer to being solved. It helps too, that Nils is such an amazing little guy. I know I know, every mother says that about her kid. It's most likely true too, that every baby is amazing. That doesn't stop me from thanking the good lord that this little one is mine. Can I gush just a little bit? I am totally in love.

Mine. All mine. Amazing.

Not too much right now

Not too many thoughts to offer up right now. Many thoughts tumbling around this rusty coffee can / brain of mine, but nothing that can be appropriately written down yet. Not enough distance or perspective. All is well though, and I love my little one more each day. Some pictures perhaps?

 

Nils

He's here now. All went well. All is well.

And his name is Nils. Why Nils? Briefly:

We wanted a German name. Something that was short and sweet, but left a good tone ringing in our ears. After we had decided on Nils and I was chatting with my mother one afternoon, she joked that we should name the baby something Norwegian. His last name was German, after all. His middle name (my maiden name) was Finnish. Shouldn't his name cover all his ethnicities? Just for kicks I went to a couple "Norwegian boy names" websites and sure enough, there was Nils. Settled. 

A couple months later I was having a daydreamy doodle-type moment, and wrote out his name on a piece of paper. It was the first time I had ever done this, and something about it struck me as odd. It turns out that "Nils" is composed entirely of letters from the name "Allison". I know, I know. That probably isn't so meaningful. It's not an exact anagram after all (Nilsalo? Can't do that to him.), but something about it just feels nice to me. I spent nine months forming him. His cells came from mine, he listened to the blood running through my veins. I imagine little parts of me breaking away to form parts of him... and it seems so right that a few letters broke away from my name to form his. Wouldn't it be nice if for the rest of my life, every time I heard his name I remembered that bond? You know, because I'm in danger of forgetting and all.

On to pictures:

One day old in his hospital bassinet.

Sleeping on my shoulder. I know it looks like I've got a sneer on my face, but I swear I'm just looking down.

With Oliver after a long and difficult night. Both finally getting to do what they want - sleep.

Nearly a week old now, and flashing those eyes of his at us.

Babies don't smile at this stage, I know.Doesn't it look like he's smiling, though?

the last one, I swear

Still waiting. 8 days overdue now and I'm still hanging out here. Just waiting.

No, that's not entirely accurate. I'm not just waiting. I've gotten a few things done. I finished up two handknits for the baby, for example. Pictures below, and I swear these are the last "things I made for the baby" pictures I will be posting for awhile. Also the last post before the baby himself. I'm determined about that one.

 The "easy baby cardigan" I was working one during one of my last posts. It was taken from More Last Minute Knitted Gifts, and was just as advertised - easy. A tiny Mr. Rogers sweater! I'm rubbing my hands together with glee.

My  "manly baby vest", as posted on The Thrifty Knitter. Super soft, super cute... is it wrong to dread the day he grows out of it?

All right, Allison. Enough with the knitting and the posting already. Just have the baby!

So much time

I've been off work for a week now. Just me. No baby to take care of yet. Just lots and lots of time. I'm sort of savoring this down time, and sort of wringing my hands with impatience. How to fill the time?

So far:

I've just about finished my little baby sweater. 

I've stocked my freezer with meals to eat later, when we're exhausted and overwhelmed.

I've made lunch dates.

I've napped.

I've run a whole mess of silly little errands.

I've spent a lot of time on the phone.

I've cleaned and organized my apartment.

I've gone to prenatal yoga.

I've sat quietly, focusing with creepy intensity on my wall calendar.

Two days overdue. Little Steff Man is going to come when he's ready, and I kind of like that idea. He reminds me of me - he'll do things when he thinks the time is right, and not before. Rock on, little sweetmeat! Follow your gut! Just um, do you think you can be ready really soon?

More little things

I don't know if it's nesting, or if this baby gave me just the excuse I had always been looking for. Whatever the reason (a little of both?), I've continued my sometimes-bordering-on-obsessive streak of creating. A bit of knitting, a bit of sewing. As before, the projects are all pretty small. They've all been fun though, and I've learned a little something from each. The best part: my little muse will only give me MORE ideas and inspiration once he decides to arrive. Ah, the possibilities!

If I may share a few of the things I've been working on:

A tag blankie. I can't pretend to know all that much about babies, but many reliable sources have told me that they go nuts for this sort of thing. They love sucking on the ribbons, etc. All right, then. Worth a shot.

My first ever hand-knitted sweater. Exclamation point! It took me many starts and start overs, but I'm more or less happy with the end result.

A fleece winter hat, as modeled by an Ugly Doll (which I did not make). You can't see the hat's cute little elf-like pointy top from this angle. Will that keep you from sleeping tonight?

A small pile of swaddling blankets. Now all I have to do is figure out the mechanics of the actual swaddling process.

In progress now: a baby blue cardigan. This one is a bit bigger than the green sweater - once he outgrows the first he'll be able to slip right into the second. Don't worry, love; you'll never go without a mama-made sweater! Not even if you want to! I make this promise to you!